


Everyone Knows

by Berettasalts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Spoilers for Episode 6, outsider pov, set during Episode 6, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8534245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berettasalts/pseuds/Berettasalts
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky is not stupid. He knows. Everyone knows.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I want to make a note that when I wrote this, it was between episodes 6 and 7 in the series. I had a bit of a different impression of our smol tiger son than I do now; I imagined him as a bit more mature, and that's reflected here. It's also common knowledge now that Yuri On Ice exists in a world where discrimination, and particularly homophobia, don't exist, so it's highly unlikely Russia's anti-LGBT laws exist there, either. In general, Yuri On Ice turned out to be a much more lighthearted anime than the first five episodes indicate (we know now that's because of how unreliable a narrator Yuuri is; his episodes reflect his depression and anxiety early on). I decided to keep this story the way it is, but it's a bit darker in nature than how I now imagine this anime.
> 
> Come scream with me on Tumblr at davaikatsudon

Yuri Plisetsky watched Yuuri Katsuki’s entire performance in Bejing from a table near the back of a lunchroom, sulking over his own silver placement, but he did watch. The entire thing. From start to finish.

 

No one, not even Yuri Plisetsky, could look away from the tantalizing, seductive prince that had emerged from the little brown-haired piggy that Yuri had met last year, and watched struggle for weeks with basic moves like that stupid triple salchow. His performance of Eros in their unofficial competition had been flawed, but full of raw emotion, and Katsuki had only just begun to discover his own allure. Now, he possessed a determination that reflected in every motion, a raw, driven hunger to prove to himself and to everyone else that he was worthy of this chance. This chance with Viktor.

 

Yuri was no fool. Every time Katsuki danced, in practice or in public, he only cared about _one_ pair of eyes.

 

The camera did not look away for a moment from Katsuki’s performance, but Yuri knew Viktor’s eyes were on him now, watching him with the same hungry expression that Yuri had witnessed in Hatsetsu. Thinking back on the moment he had realized Viktor would not be coming home with him, still brought the taste of bile to the back of his throat. He fully intended to win the Grand Prix, but there was one arena where Yuri knew that he would _never_ defeat Yuuri Katsuki.

 

Katsuki finished his step sequence and transitioned smoothly into his spins, projecting seduction, eroticism, and raw allure in every step, every twist, every turn, every look. Those had always been his strength, but today it was impossible not to watch him, even though this was a man he should hate, a man he _did_ hate, openly and without remorse, the man who had stolen Viktor. From him. From _all_ of them. The one man, in all the world, who had Viktor's love and would know Viktor's love. That was why he couldn’t look away, he realized; why _they_ couldn’t look away. Yuuri was in a precarious position to be the most hated man in the entire world, and he seemed to have turned it into his strength and was even _thriving_ on it.

 

Viktor was a damn fool, Yuri thought viciously, taking a drink from the bottle in front of him without tasting it at all. Katsuki landed his first, second jump perfectly. Did Viktor even realize how dangerous this was? In Russia, displays of public affection between men were punishable by law. In Japan the law may be more lenient, but open displays such as those Viktor was prone to were still frowned upon. Viktor had never been the type to exercise restraint, and his reputation would undoubtedly survive any public scrutiny, but this level of brazenness was new ground even for him. He had his arms around Yuuri at every opportunity these days (oh, god, those pictures in Beijing), and when the cameras found them their heads were often bent together in quiet conversation. Not that Yuri hadn’t known already what was going on - he’d known for months now, from the days he’d spent in Hasetsu listening to the sounds coming in from the onsen through his open window at night. From their casual touches and the way Katsuki always cast his eyes to Viktor while dancing his Eros, the way his sultry look inevitably caused that telltale blush behind Viktor’s ears. People were already talking. Katsuki had named his theme this year _Love_ , for crying out loud, which he credited to Viktor coming into his life. _Everyone_ already knew. If they didn't already, they would soon enough. They weren’t exactly being secretive about it. Eros was not Yuuri Katsuki’s story, that was yet to come - but Eros was _their_ story. His and Viktors, a private story they were sharing with the world.

 

Maybe that was why Viktor’s arms were always hugging Katsuki so close these days - he’d always been a little bit covetous. Maybe he was too jealous to share.

 

The quads were approaching, Katsuki nailed them too. The commentators thrilled and the crowed applauded. It was ambitious to plan all of his jumps in the second half, but Katsuki had the stamina for it. Yuri knew what he was up against and it cost him nothing to admit that. It only drove him to push harder, to be _perfect_.

 

Katsuki finished, breathless and flushed, perfectly still, arms around himself and eyes to his left side. He took his bows, left the ice, and there were a few moments while the judges tabulated his scores.

 

Yuri hoped every day that he would fall on his fat ass or break his ankle on something stupid and be forced to withdraw from the Grand Prix entirely. He hoped even harder now.

 

Viktor joined Katsuki to wait for his scores. Over a hundred and a personal best. He celebrated by, again, foolishly throwing his arms around Yuuri. He bent his head and whispered something. Katsuki whispered back. Viktor turned his head, his lips brushing Yuuri’s ear and Yuri again tasted the bitterness of seething, seething hatred. He had never hated anyone or anything so much as he did in this moment.

 

“You’re a damn fool, Viktor,” he muttered in Russian, taking another drink.

 

Katsuki had not only landed Viktor, he had _stolen_ him. From Yuri, from the public arena, and from the world. And while the world may, for awhile, be enchanted by their love story and curious about this enticing little prince who had stolen their darling away, the world would not be kind to him for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate myself but I _love_ this anime. More pls.
> 
> I sat down to write something super smutty between Viktor and Yuuri but this came out instead.
> 
> Also can I just say that I absolutely _love_ that their ship name is fucking _Viktuuri_


End file.
